I'll Follow Him Into the Dark
by OrangeSlicePop
Summary: It was on that rainy day, the day Arthur's heart broke, that he swore he would never ever be happy again. The days following that rainy one left him travelling down into the depths of darkness. However, there can't be darkness without light and one certain ray of sunshine has an uncanny way of following him no matter where he goes. (Human au UsUk) (I own nothing but the story)
1. Prolougue

Hey! So little announcement, I have decided to use my wattpad so this story will also be on DisneyStuck, my wattpad account. Anyway i hope you enjoy and check out my wattpad when you get the chance. -Orange

A lot can happen in a few hours. One hour, you're curled up in bed, shivering at how cold the rain has made your room. The cold seeps up your legs and raises goosebumps on your pale skin. It's summer, why is it so damn cold? Then, the thought occurs to you, your bed is empty, and the tears are once again streaming down your face, faster than the rain on your fogged up window. A soft sob escapes your chapped and bitten lips, stained red from the sickly sweet liquid that flows through your veins. Soon the sob turns into angry shouting at yourself, at your blasted alarm clock on your night table, and at the world who ripped her from your finger tips.

The second hour, you get up from your cold bed and step onto the hard wooden floor, careful to avoid the glass from something you had broken the night before. Your head hurts from the crying and you stumble into the bathroom on bare, wobbly legs. You grip the sink for balance and stare straight into the mirror. There's a cut just above your left eye and the silly eyeliner she always loved is smudged around your right. Those acidic green eyes of yours seem to sink into your skull and there are bags under your eyes from the restlessness you experienced. Everything ached and you wonder if you would even make it downstairs.

After an hour of trying to clean yourself and getting sick over the bowl of your almost immaculate toilet, you walk downstairs in a robe to keep yourself warm in this frigid cold house. But that smell, the smell that clings to the robe is all too familiar and the tears fall down your face again. This time, there is no sobbing or shouting, just silent tears falling down your face as you try to carry on with your normal life. The tears drip into the burnt toast that you decided to make after failing to make yourself some eggs. She was always such a great cook. Nothing burnt. Nothing disgusting. Nothing broken.

The clock now reads twelve and the memories start flooding back.

The date is July fourth, 2011, and her eyes are sparkling while her laugh is like loud, booming music that echoes around the room. White walls enhance the beauty of her shoulder length, golden hair, which bounces and glimmers in the afternoon light. You love her more than anyone will ever know, but little do you know, she will be taken away from you.

You sneak her away from her room, your hands tightening around hers whenever someone passes you. When you two are free from the confines of the hospital, you happily walk down the street, swinging your hands back and forth like excited little children. Everything is perfect. Well, everything was perfect.

She gets a call from her parents hours later when you both are curled up in each others arms on that warm summer afternoon. Your love picks it up and she nods slightly as she listens to her worried mother on the other end of the phone

"Artie...I have to go back to the hospital, okay? My parents are worried..." Her voice is soft and sweet, like the honey you sometimes put in your tea.

"Don't worry, love, I'll walk you back..I completely understand and I wouldn't want you to get in trouble," you say, sitting up with her tightly clutched in your arms.

"Ooh, such a gentleman. You're the love of my life, you know that, Artie?

"As are you, my dearest Amelia.

"Arthur! Stoooop! You know how embarrassed all your silly British talk gets me." Her blush is the brightest pink you've ever seen, and it just adds to her beauty.

"And I think you are the most adorable girl ever when you are embarrassed."

She tackles you happily, her laugh loud and filled with love. Everything is absolutely perfect when it comes to spending time with Amelia. You don't feel insecure when she's with you and she looks ten times happier when she's with you. At least that's what you keep telling yourself. You don't know when she's sad or ill because she is too proud to ever admit it.

You swear that her pride will be the death of her someday...and that's when she falls limp in your arms.

"Amelia? Amelia?! AMELIA!"

" You rush her back to the hospital, tears blurring your vision. No, no, no, no...she has to be okay, she has to be okay. Your heart is pounding and your thoughts are racing. Blonde hair falls in your face as a shadow falls over the sky with threatening clouds. It's no longer just your tears blurring your vision. The slippery ground underneath your feet causes you to slip. In vain, you clutch your girlfriend close to your chest as both of you tumble to the ground. Her blonde hair is fanned out on the pavement and her tan skin looks a sickly white...

She can't be dead, she just can't...

Your eyes close but just as soon as you pass out, you're awake again and you remember your girlfriend who looked like she was dying. The nurses protest but you run through the hospital to Amelia's room. She isn't there. Her parents are crying in the corner of her dimly lit room. Dissolving into tears, you fall to your knees, the powerful sobs causing your body to shake.

You can't bear the thought of what you think has just happened. So you scream in sorrow. You scream in anger. You're angry at yourself, angry at that blasted kettle on the kitchen stove, and angry at the world who ripped her from your fingertips.

The date is July fourth, 2013 and every year, you end up sobbing on your ex-girlfriend's birthday.


	2. Chapter 1: Alfred F Jones

Chapter 1

July 5, 2013/p

With a pounding headache, a young seventeen-year old woke up from a night of partying. His blonde hair was a mess and stuck out at awkward angles while bags could be found underneath his eyes. It took him a moment to realize he was lying on his kitchen floor surrounded by red solo cups and countless amounts of junk food. He fell back to the floor with a thump and a giggle. Having a birthday party on the Fourth of July was definitely the best idea he'd had in a long time.

After a minute of lying there, laughing like an old fool, the boy decided to go check on his little brother. That's what good big brothers do; make sure their little brothers didn't get in too much trouble so mom doesn't kill the both of them. That would be terrible. Mattie didn't deserve to be in trouble for a "crime" he didn't commit. Heroes don't let their little brothers take the blame for them. Heroes take care of their brothers even when they are probably drunk off their ass in the bathroom.

He heard retching in the bathroom and he stumbled over to where he found his sick brother. His long blonde hair was just as messy as his brother's and he was curled up on the bathroom floor. A soft whimpering sound came from the back of his throat as he felt sick again, barely having the energy to lift himself up to throw up in the toilet bowl again. Miserable looked like an understatement seeing the boy's face. Poor Mattie. All he wanted to do was party, but here he was, curled up on the bathroom floor, losing his dinner from last night's party.

"Aww... Mattie..did you party too hard?"

"Alfred, I swear I'm going to...urf...murder you..."

Matthew's voice was quiet even when he rose his voice. It was an odd quirk he had but Alfred guessed it was all because of how shy he was. Sometimes Alfred forgot he was even in the room with him. He was jerked from his thoughts by the sound of his brother getting sick again...right on his shoes...

"Hey! Watch it!" Alfred recoiled and jumped away from Matthew in disgust.

"I'm sorry...I can't help it..." Matthew's voice sounded so broken that Alfred couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Yeah...Here..." Alfred sighed and wrapped his arms around his waist and carried him out of the bathroom, "Let's get you upstairs so you can rest..."

Alfred let Matthew lean against him and he slowly led him upstairs to their shared bedroom. Say all you want about Alfred, but you can't deny how great of a brother he was. He helped Matthew pull on a pair of pajamas before helping him into his warm bed. The older brother sat on his bed, gazing down at Matthew with a soft smile.

"Don't worry about cleaning up. I've got it covered. You just rest up and soon you'll be your normal, happy self," Alfred said, his voice still cheery and enthusiastic.

Mathew didn't answer but only nodded before falling asleep. Quietly and quickly, Alfred rushed out of the room and down the stairs to start cleaning up before their mother came home that evening. First he started with his shoes and the bathroom. After purging both of Matthew's bodily fluids, he got to work on his living room and kitchen. All the while he was belting out songs that had anything to do with America. He may hate Miley Cyrus's music, but he would still proudly sing the entirety of "Party in the USA" by heart. Alfred considered it to be one of many of his theme songs, but "American Idiot" would always be his favorite. So he sang well into the afternoon, remaining cheery even though his house looked like a disaster.

It wasn't until a few hours later that Alfred finally finished making the house presentable to his mother. He flopped on the couch, tired and exhausted from cleaning the entirety of his house. His shirt was off revealing his body with which he still wasn't proud of. Heroes were allowed to have low self esteem when it came to their bodies. It was okay for heroes to feel human every once in a while...right.

His stomach growled and Alfred realized he missed both breakfast and lunch. This was an emergency in his book and he quickly jumped up and made for the door. How could he forget to eat? Heroes need to eat to become big and strong...at least that's what his mother used to tell him. Without a second thought, Alfred ran out of his house to grab himself a burger and a large coke, promising that he'd go back on his diet next week...Hopefully.

It was at that same moment that another blonde boy woke up to his older brother yelling at him to get off of his sorry ass and get out of bed. With a groan, the boy sat up and pushed his brother off of his bed, the red head landing on the ground with a loud thud. Acidic green eyes met with another pair with the exact same intense glare. This was it. The calm before the storm. A heavy silence, laced with tension, fell between them before pale hands lunged for a just as pale throat. It wasn't long until their other two brothers came to split them up.

"Arthur, you are so dead when I get my hands on you!" the red head yelled as he was forcibly dragged out of the room by his older brothers.

""Love you too, Alistair!" Arthur screamed back, rubbing the bruises on his neck.

Alistair and Arthur never got along. The bigger and stronger, Alistair, would have been the youngest had Arthur never been born and he claimed that their mother favoured him the most. Of course, Arthur argued back that Alistair would never understand what it was like to be in his shoes. To have that constant, heavy weight resting where his heart should be. He would never understand what it was like to be hated by his brothers nor would he ever understand the pain of losing someone he loved.

After a minute of trying to compose himself, Arthur just gave up and lay back down on the bed to dissolve into his blanket mound of tears and sadness. His cheeks were once again coat in a thin layer of tear stains as he lay there absolutely useless. It wasn't until his brothers came back in the room that his soft crying turned into loud shouting. The older boys had to literally drag their crying brother out of his bed and into the bathroom.

"Damn Arthur...You smell worse than Alistair's breath..." one said quietly.

"Oh shut up, you wanker! Leave me alone!" Arthur's voice cracked as he tried to shout again.

"Nope! Mum said that you needed ta get out of the house and that's exactly what you're doing. But first you need to get cleaned up so you don't smell like the back-end of a horse."

So the boys dumped their youngest brother into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, refusing to let him out until he smelled actually presentable to the outside world. Arthur lay on the cold porcelain tile before pulling himself up into a standing position and slowly making his way to the shower. Soon, the warm water rushed through his hair and over his now bare back. His eyes closed as he stood there, imagining how great it would be if all his troubles could just flow down the drain. He surely would be a happier young man if it were that simple. Who was he kidding...Life couldn't be that sweet.

His legs no longer wobbled as he walked out of the shower, his blonde bangs sticking to his forehead and a warm, fluffy, white towel wrapped around his skinny frame. The boy blow dry his hair until it was back to being it's usual fluffy mess of pale blonde locks before taking care of a few other matters like his teeth and bladdar. When he was finished, he realized his brothers had left so he stole away to his room to get himself dressed. That's when he stopped. The weight in his chest seemed heavier than ever.

These were the clothes he wore two years ago, when his entire life turned upside down.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, he pushed the old leather jacket to the back of the closet and opted for a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Hopefully, it wasn't too hot because he definitely wasn't going to wear a pair of shorts. No matter what people told him, a pair of shorts would never look flattering. The made his ass...too defined... Arthur shook his head and shuddered at the thought. Never again would he wear that clothing that tight. He was done with his punk days. Done. Done. Done.

Arthur finally left the house for the first time that week when he was finished getting dressed. The warm summer air felt great on his skin and a gentle breeze blew through his hair. Everything seemed to be at ease, nothing disturbing the silence. However, it was in the silence that Arthur fell victim to his thoughts. Two years ago, it was a day like this. Two years ago, it was a perfect day like this. His heart sped up as well as his breathing. Oh God oh God oh God oh God...

It was at that moment that Arthur ran into who he thought was the hottest boy he had ever seen. Wait. Did he just think that? He fell to the ground with a quiet thud and looked into the wide and bright blue eyes of the boy he ran into.

"Whoa dude! I am so sorry! Here, let me help you up," his voice was loud and excited as he held out his hand.

"No. I don't need help. Could you please leave me on the ground for a little bit," Arthur's voice was quiet and withdrawn; the complete opposite of the boy who just ran into him.

"No, I'm serious, let me help you up."

"I said I'm fine! Now leave me be!"

There was a long moment between them; Arthur stubbornly sitting on the ground and the other boy stubbornly holding out a hand for him to take.

"You're not gonna move until I take your hand, are you?"

"Nope. And I don't have anywhere to go so I can stand here all day."

Sighing, Arthur reached up and grabbed the boy's hand before pulling himself to his feet. He got a clear view of his face now; glassy blue eyes sitting behind cheap looking, plastic glasses. That Hollywood smile of his was absolutely...breathtaking. Wow. What a dumb romantic. But the way his hair seemed to frame his face perfectly... Arthur was almost jealous.

"There we go! My name's Alfred by the way. Alfred F. Jones."

"What does the F stand for?" Arthur rose one of his eyebrows looking up at Alfred.

"Freedom!"

Oh great, a stupid American.

"Arthur..." the British boy mumbled quietly.

"Huh?"

Was he actually this stupid?

"My name is Arthur. Arthur Kirkland," his voice was stronger this time.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Arthur. Hey, how about as an apology, I treat you to lunch?"

"That actually sounds lovely, where do you suggest?"

"McDonalds!"

Arthur had a feeling that this boy wasn't so perfect after all.

/Hello Lovelies, so here is the real chapter one of my fanfiction. I hope you enjoy it so far! I'll try to upload regularly (like every Sunday) this week though I have exams so I may be a little late. Thank you for reading -Orange/


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